Poisonwell
Page 121
“Yes,” Phae answered, the memory vivid in her mind. “It felt like it was a spirit creature.”
“It was. I sent it.”
She looked at him in shock. “You did?”
“Don’t you remember all of the creatures that tried to get your attention? You were so afraid that you could not hear the whispers from Mirrowen. I was with you the whole time. I’m always with you, Phae. I can be everywhere. I follow each person’s life. I know them by name. I’ve ordered things to achieve the outcome I desire.”
Phae shook her head, confused. “You sent that spirit creature to its death?”
“Death is part of the fallen nature of your world, Phae. Of course it would naturally die going there. But Phae . . . I have the power to restore life again. I can reverse death. The Vaettir call it keramat. I am the source of that power through these keys I wear, the Voided Keys. They hold dominion over the Deep. There must be suffering in your world. It serves a purpose, Phae. Your struggles prepare you for greater things. I’ve looked forward to you coming to Mirrowen. You endured what you were meant to in your world. You can leave the mortal coil forever. Being bound to a Dryad tree makes you part of the essence of Mirrowen. You preserve wisdom and knowledge. A Dryad cannot die nor can she be killed. When your season is finished, you will be freed from the bond, free to travel to other worlds. Freedom beyond anything you can yet imagine.”
Phae’s heart pounded with excitement. “How does this work? I was told, by Neodesha, that there was a tree. There was fruit from that tree.”
“Yes. The tree is in the city, over there. Do you see the river that you were near when your mother found you?” He pointed along the beach toward the overgrown area where Phae had emerged. “Follow the river with your eyes and you’ll see it leads to the heart of the city. There is a tree there. The river comes from the tree. There are twelve different fruits growing from the branches, each fruit granting a different power. One of those fruit will make you like me.”
“Immortal?” Phae asked.
He shook his head. “That is not what we call ourselves. We are the Unwearying Ones. We do not tire, nor thirst, nor grow fatigued. Our combined will keeps the Decay away from your world. Our thoughts hold it at bay. The thoughts of mortals in your world attract the Decay. Thankfully, our thoughts are higher than your thoughts. Our ways are higher than your ways. I invite you to become one of us, Phae. To become an Unwearying One yourself.”
Phae’s heart leapt at the thought, her eyes blinking in wonder. “Like Shion!” she gasped, understanding flooding her. “It’s not the Arch-Rike’s magic at all that protects him. He is part of this, isn’t he? I know he is!” She thrilled at the thought, beginning to see and understand, and it was all jumbling together in her mind.
“Yes,” the Seneschal replied. “Only he has forgotten who he is.”
“Will you tell me?” she said, taking his hands and looking at him pleadingly. “I promised I would help restore his memories, if I could.”
The Seneschal clasped one of his hands atop hers. “It depends, child, entirely on you. Would you know his history? Would you free his memories if you could?”
Phae nodded vigorously. “I would. Must I swear an oath first? Is it possible to stop the Plagues? By coming here, must I abandon my father and my companions?”
“Phae,” he said quietly, his eyes twinkling. “You will understand it all. But you must fulfill your destiny first. You must make your oath and you must honor it always. As you learned from the Dryad whose tree you will liberate, there is a heavy price in forsaking the oath. Do you do it willingly?”
“I do,” Phae said, nodding, her heart nearly exploding with emotions. She felt tears on her lashes.
“After you have accepted the oaths, you will be allowed to eat one of the fruit from the tree. Each kind bestows a power. For example, the fruit of ambition causes the fireblood. One of the fruits bestows the Vaettir gift of breath. You are also Dryad-born and possess a gift through your faculty of sight. Not only can you take in experiences through your eyes, you can also take them away from others. You can draw memories from someone else. Or restore them, once the power is fully consecrated. What you will learn is knowledge that you cannot share within the mortal world. Possessing it will make you different from others. It will give you great wisdom, Phae. However, in much wisdom is much grief. And they that increase knowledge also increase sorrow. As you learn the truth, you will grieve. But I promise you that the fruit of that knowledge, while bitter to the taste, is also most sweet too.”
“It was. I sent it.”
She looked at him in shock. “You did?”
“Don’t you remember all of the creatures that tried to get your attention? You were so afraid that you could not hear the whispers from Mirrowen. I was with you the whole time. I’m always with you, Phae. I can be everywhere. I follow each person’s life. I know them by name. I’ve ordered things to achieve the outcome I desire.”
Phae shook her head, confused. “You sent that spirit creature to its death?”
“Death is part of the fallen nature of your world, Phae. Of course it would naturally die going there. But Phae . . . I have the power to restore life again. I can reverse death. The Vaettir call it keramat. I am the source of that power through these keys I wear, the Voided Keys. They hold dominion over the Deep. There must be suffering in your world. It serves a purpose, Phae. Your struggles prepare you for greater things. I’ve looked forward to you coming to Mirrowen. You endured what you were meant to in your world. You can leave the mortal coil forever. Being bound to a Dryad tree makes you part of the essence of Mirrowen. You preserve wisdom and knowledge. A Dryad cannot die nor can she be killed. When your season is finished, you will be freed from the bond, free to travel to other worlds. Freedom beyond anything you can yet imagine.”
Phae’s heart pounded with excitement. “How does this work? I was told, by Neodesha, that there was a tree. There was fruit from that tree.”
“Yes. The tree is in the city, over there. Do you see the river that you were near when your mother found you?” He pointed along the beach toward the overgrown area where Phae had emerged. “Follow the river with your eyes and you’ll see it leads to the heart of the city. There is a tree there. The river comes from the tree. There are twelve different fruits growing from the branches, each fruit granting a different power. One of those fruit will make you like me.”
“Immortal?” Phae asked.
He shook his head. “That is not what we call ourselves. We are the Unwearying Ones. We do not tire, nor thirst, nor grow fatigued. Our combined will keeps the Decay away from your world. Our thoughts hold it at bay. The thoughts of mortals in your world attract the Decay. Thankfully, our thoughts are higher than your thoughts. Our ways are higher than your ways. I invite you to become one of us, Phae. To become an Unwearying One yourself.”
Phae’s heart leapt at the thought, her eyes blinking in wonder. “Like Shion!” she gasped, understanding flooding her. “It’s not the Arch-Rike’s magic at all that protects him. He is part of this, isn’t he? I know he is!” She thrilled at the thought, beginning to see and understand, and it was all jumbling together in her mind.
“Yes,” the Seneschal replied. “Only he has forgotten who he is.”
“Will you tell me?” she said, taking his hands and looking at him pleadingly. “I promised I would help restore his memories, if I could.”
The Seneschal clasped one of his hands atop hers. “It depends, child, entirely on you. Would you know his history? Would you free his memories if you could?”
Phae nodded vigorously. “I would. Must I swear an oath first? Is it possible to stop the Plagues? By coming here, must I abandon my father and my companions?”
“Phae,” he said quietly, his eyes twinkling. “You will understand it all. But you must fulfill your destiny first. You must make your oath and you must honor it always. As you learned from the Dryad whose tree you will liberate, there is a heavy price in forsaking the oath. Do you do it willingly?”
“I do,” Phae said, nodding, her heart nearly exploding with emotions. She felt tears on her lashes.
“After you have accepted the oaths, you will be allowed to eat one of the fruit from the tree. Each kind bestows a power. For example, the fruit of ambition causes the fireblood. One of the fruits bestows the Vaettir gift of breath. You are also Dryad-born and possess a gift through your faculty of sight. Not only can you take in experiences through your eyes, you can also take them away from others. You can draw memories from someone else. Or restore them, once the power is fully consecrated. What you will learn is knowledge that you cannot share within the mortal world. Possessing it will make you different from others. It will give you great wisdom, Phae. However, in much wisdom is much grief. And they that increase knowledge also increase sorrow. As you learn the truth, you will grieve. But I promise you that the fruit of that knowledge, while bitter to the taste, is also most sweet too.”
